Goodbye to You
by Dinette
Summary: They say that saying goodbye is one of the hardest things to do. And it is.


Goodbye to You goodbye to everything that i knew, you were the one i loved, the one thing i tried to hold on to...hurts to want everything and nothing at the same time...Not giving in this time...  
  


It's there again. It's been coming back to me for several nights now. It's always the same dream. The world is asleep, and dawn's awakening. I'm jogging, jogging.

Past all those places that I've ever known in my life. The creek I fished in at six, the long dirt road where I know every bump and catch, the old store selling paper windmills, wind-catchers, and nuts that little children delight in.

I'm jogging, not seeing the places, yet acutely aware of every step, every speck around me. I'm running onto the hill now. Bare and green, the wild grass is rippling in the laughing, dry wind, which traces its way across my hair. I've reached the top. I look up, not down.

Up, where I can see so much more than the world below could offer. Then it starts.

The music. I know it by heart now, although it changes every time. The clear, thin, voice of a reed pierces through, bringing the thin fingers of the sun with it. More, more, more join in the orchestra, and the sky is soon soaked in an orange-red bath.

I raise my hands to the sky and shout.

I don't know what I shout, because I wake up.  
  


This time however, I feel absolutely sure of what I need to do right now.

Its only 4.10 in the morning, but I make my way to school.

Today's my graduation day. I've shoved the thought of the day right to the day itself. Some things are better not dealt with. 

I've been searching deep down in my soul. It feels like I'm starting all over again, the last three years were just pretend.

There it is. Cold and impressive, Shohoku High.

The school I came to, three years ago. But I'm not going to miss the school. I'll be missing my activity.

Basketball

I'm going to get this over with as soon as possible.

The basketball court is uninhabited in these wee hours of the morning.

I'm still slightly at a loss as to what I'm supposed to know, but I know I'm here for a purpose. Like if I had a calendar, I'd have marked this day with a fluorescent highlighter, and added IMPT, 5AM, BBALL COURT in block letters.

Waiting for whatever's supposed to happen, I pick up a stray ball.

Before I know it, I'm sweating from the exhaustion of training vigorously. I lean over, the drops rolling over my nose, hitting the floor in a steady, slightly off-putting, manner.

Then I straighten up, and then I know the purpose of it all.

I'm here to say goodbye.

I walk about, taking my time. After all, its only 5. Every inch of the courts, the sides, the balconies. Even the doors, which are going to clang today for the last time for me again.

I'll miss them all, but then I know, out there, there's so much more. Like the reflection of the stars in the water, when the stars above are twinkling away.

Yet again, that's not really such a good example. I had a good time here. Its an experience that one can't forget, and yet its neither something you'd tell your grandchildren. Well, at least I wouldn't tell _my_ grandchildren. I won't ever experience that again. You can't turn back the clock, and I wouldn't want to anyway.

It's something intangible, something you can't put into words, and when you try to you sound foolish.

6.10 am. The real dawn's just beginning to creep up outside.

Someone else comes in, and starts his own training. He doesn't notice me, and I don't really notice him. Goodbye... the silent thought reverberates throughout the entire hall, really loudly at first, then softer and softer.  


Just as I leave, it dies off.  
  


I'm running, running in the wind, in my dream. 

Stars are falling out of the night sky, and I catch one, and it instantly fades away.

Its exactly the same dream as the night before. I can see the green hill ahead already. But just before it, there's something new.

Its the Shohoku basketball court. I stop for a bit, staring. Then a smile breaks out on my face as the realisation, too, breaks out.  
  


The dreams stopped after that dream.

Finish.


End file.
